


You Can't Go Home Again

by softly_speaking_valkyrie



Series: Love Across the Stars [12]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Established Poe Dameron/Finn, Established Relationship, Established Rey/Rose, Eventual Smut, F/F, Force Bond (Star Wars), Hurt/Comfort, Mild Plot, Near Death Experiences, Orgasm Control, Romance, Shower Sex, Spanking, The Force, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:13:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softly_speaking_valkyrie/pseuds/softly_speaking_valkyrie
Summary: Following a lengthy chase with the Star Destroyer 'Punisher', Commander Poe Dameron leads Black Squadron into a daring plot to ambush the First Order ship in the Unknown Regions. Flying a repurposed and retrofitted B-Wing fighter, Rey begins to encounter catastrophic problems with her craft, forcing her to fly extremely erratically to stay alive. Despite best efforts by Finn in the operation, Rey nearly crashes and burns on the hangar deck of the Bunkserbuster 'Ninka' commanded by Amilyn Holdo, and following the traumatic ordeal of failing to fly combat, Rey falls victim the vices of fear, anger, and hatred for the first time. It's something she can't even hide from Rose upon her return to Crait...
Relationships: Rey/Rose Tico
Series: Love Across the Stars [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756282
Comments: 7
Kudos: 3





	1. Failure

**Author's Note:**

> While not a direct sequel to, this fic follows the events of my fics 'Bastille Day' and 'The Room Where It Happens' in which Rey and Rose get together as well as Hux and Kylo. I make a couple of references to the events of those fics, mostly Rey killing a Knight of Ren on Naboo, as well as Kylo coming onto Hux in a dub-con way. Reading the other fics aren't essential to get the idea of this story but this is a series that follows a pretty dominant plot so hey. 
> 
> Rey also has blonde hair in this fic, the same style Daisy has for her movie with Tom Holland, again this takes place in an earlier fic but is inconsequential entirely to the plot. Yeah there's a tiny plot here, mostly just to convey some themes and get to the smut.

“Black Five, wave off, you’re trim looks compromised,” Poe called into his communicator, the fighter in question to the left of his wing, taking point ahead of the pack more than he had commanded.

Rey checked the trim from the cockpit, the oversized and limited starfighter recoiling against her control. The flight sticks rattled in her hands, like the whole craft was fighting her – no wonder the trim was off, but the technical issues were mounting up more than just that. The gimbal was shot to hell, fragged beyond belief as she tried to loosen it, and the thruster balance was off by a few degrees to boot. The power regulator was struggling to say the least, Rey switched to manual and bled the hyperdrive to compensate, the battle looming as the trap sprung itself.

“Blast...” The Padawan whispered to herself as the proximity alert came through from the sensor modules beyond in the asteroid field.

Poe’s rallying cry came in her ears again as she tried to keep her B-Wing steady in her hands, the hyperdrive still bleeding power back into the regulator before she could thread it through into the gimbal and the trim. There didn’t look to be a lot of time to do so before the battle would kick off – ahead the _Resurgence_ -class Star Destroyer they had all been chasing throughout the system ducked out of Hyperspace and into their trap, right through the centre of their snare. The asteroids formed a blockade gate right before her bow, and Rey tensed before the clusters of thermal detonators erupted into a flurry of smoke and explosions.

“We got ‘em now, Black Squadron!” Poe declared through the comm channel; Rey’s hands froze over the command console of her cockpit and snapped to the flight controls. “All fighters lock S-Foils in attack positions and accelerate to attack speed!”

“Roger, Black Leader,” Jessika Pava’s voice affirmed first, taking her position as his wingman.

“Black Leader, this is Blue Leader,” Tallie Lintra’s call backed up the rest of Dameron’s team from the flanks – the talented interceptor and her squadron of A-Wings were providing fighter support for this mission to ensure the First Order destroyer’s destruction. All of them were over a week into this chase. “We’re all falling in behind you now to provide cover for your team.”

“Copy that Blue Leader,” Poe retorted in regiment. “Good to still have you with us, Tallie.”

“Still think we’ve got enough firepower to take down that thing, Poe?” Finn asked, his own position in the Y-Wing right behind Rey in the oversized starship assault craft that was the B-Wing. Ackbar had personally designed the upgrades to the newer line of the massive fighters. “We’re still down Hopper and Jance.”

Thus far Black Squadron had sustained relatively heavy losses in the form of Blacks Eight and Eleven; a Duros veteran of the first Galactic Civil War known only by her callsign of ‘Hopper’ (it had been extrapolated from a time she destroyed a wing of TIEs over Brentaal in just a T-16 Skyhopper with a single ventral laser cannon), and then Jance, a young lad from Corellia who had joined the Resistance on a supply run to the system for new frigates. Both of them had been flying Y-Wings like Finn, but unlike the former Stormtrooper, their armament had been a full payload of advanced proton bombs with two electro-proton torpedoes to disable the shield generators of the destroyer. Without their explosive accompaniment, the squadron had been forced to employ this asteroid strategy, and from the sound in her friend’s voice, Rey could sense even without the Force that he was pessimistic about the team’s chances to fully destroy the ship without more casualties.

“We’ll get it done, Finn,” his partner reassured him from the comfort and relative safety of his craft. Poe’s new X-Wing was pretty hard to spot with the blue and orange decal arrangement, a superior fighter he’d named after his boyfriend – _Finn’s Dare_. “Follow me in Jessika... All fighters, break formation and engage at will!”

“All fighters, be advised – Enemy Interceptors coming in at your twelve, Blue Squadron breaking to engage,” Tallie reported, followed by a torrent of RZ-2 A-Wings soaring over the Black Squadron like a deadly tsunami, firing their afterburners to crash upon the encroaching mess of TIEs like water against sand.

One quick hailfire of laser bolts and some several units of the First Order craft detonated into pink and orange fireballs.

Rey tried to calm her mind as the first wave of TIEs either broke off or died before the squadron of A-Wings, her fists slacking around the flight controls as she reminded herself of how many times she’d been in a combat scenario. On top of the dozens of missions with Poe, Finn, Kaydel and other operatives of the Resistance, she’d spent more time in the flight simulations and the combat drills than any other pilot on the hangar’s duty roster. The X-Wing she had been given by Dameron had also seen more time by Paige Tico than any other craft on the deck, constantly receiving software patches and fine tuning by both the deck chief and Rey herself to her engine and laser cannons. But Rey wasn’t flying _Black One_ , and neither was she in the safe and spacious cockpit of the _Millennium Falcon_ as co-pilot for Chewbacca. She was stuffed into the gyroscopic swivelled confines of the A/SR-01b B-Wing Starship Assault Starfighter. The Force felt threatened around her frame as she gripped the flight controls again in her hands, feeling the ship reject her like nothing ever had before. Rey was a natural born pilot, better than many she had met (Poe still outclassed her, but that was due to his tutelage and his blood), but this simply didn’t feel at all like she knew, it was wrong.

She could see and sense Finn accelerating to attack speed beside her, pushing the full throttle of the workhorse that was the BTL-A4 Y-Wing. It should not have been flying faster than the SR-01b. Rey panicked in her seat, trying not to fly erratically as the second wave of TIEs arrived at attack range. Immediately she felt the shields overlaying the hull take two hits from laserfire and heaved hard to portside, waving off from her wingman.

Finn jerked to follow; she could see his position on the proximity array, with the rest of Black Squadron continuing onward towards the Star Destroyer with what payloads and offensive capability they had left.

“Rey, you’re breaking off, you’ve got one on your tail!” Finn cried as he flew to follow, moving into position behind her and the tag on her flank. More barrages of green laser bolts flashed on either side of her cockpit before missing her entirely. The nimble frame of the B-Wing was hard to pin down at longer ranges, but as the fragged gimbal continued to fight the control of her feed, the thrusters fell into the same trap as before. “Rey, your trim’s still off!” Finn mildly panicked.

“I can’t shake him, Finn. My gimbal won’t unlock, I’m having some trouble; trying to compensate.”

“Move to the right,” her wingman demanded, moving into position. Through the Force, Rey could sense his tension, sense his determination, but not his fear. He’d come a long way as both a pilot and a Resistance fighter and Rey could feel his emotions fuelling her own defiance in the bucket that was her B-Wing. “Rey, move to the right.”

“Whoa, hold on Finn, you’re going to get us both killed!”

“I got this, fire your afterburners on my mark; let him get close and focus on you and not on me behind him.”

She saw his plan – preoccupy the easily manipulated First Order pilot and override his programmed thinking with a fake out from Rey, only to allow Finn to remove him from play the moment she lapsed into the kill box for a moment. It was enough to work, but would require expert timing. Rey looped the siphoning key from the console dashboard around her wrist and plugged it into the thruster control. She’d bleed enough power from the throttle to ready the gimbal. With just enough juice rebalanced into it, Rey would have enough for a short burst, enough to veer violently even with the messed up trim to get her out of the kill zone while Finn blasted him. While that happened she gripped tighter onto the fighter controls and kept weaving between the small bursts of conservative laser blasts, making it appear as if she was giving chase.

The rest of the two squadrons continued with the attack, massive explosions beginning to take hold of the Star Destroyer in the distance, more shockwaves from the bigger payloads moving the asteroids deeper into position. “Razer, load your tractor beam – bring that asteroid into the ship’s stern!” Poe ordered, the last two of the Y-Wing compliment they had on the team forming up and moving a much larger rock around the flank of the destroyer.

“Black Leader, Blue Leader, be advised – Bunkerbuster _Ninka_ emerging from Hyperspace at your six; Vice Admiral Holdo and crew will be on station to assist,” a matter-of-fact voice of a helmsman came through into the full squadron channel. On the proximity module on the dashboard, Rey could see a larger signal emerge, and turning further to port she could see the massive shape of a _Free Virgillia-_ class Bunkerbuster come into view from the shadows of the larger asteroids against the distant system star.

“Rey, break left and head for the Bunkerbuster on my mark, you’re no good out here with a busted gimbal,” Finn protested as she attempted to break ranks to starboard again and rejoin the offensive against the destroyer. “I’m coming up on your stalker now...”

“Forget it, Finn, I can still make the attack on the destroyer.”

Another few flashes of green laser shot past her cabin again barely missing her. Two more shots echoed under her small wingspan before abruptly stopping and not returning in the regular pattern she expected. Rey relaxed, turning to try and see her quarry as she circled around in a sluggish rotation, the gimbal on the fighter worsening with each ounce of power she tried to feed to it. With another jerk of the siphoning key, something troubling burst under her. “Finn?!” Rey shrieked before catastrophe could follow.

The cockpit blew a bulb – the power regulator totally failed and within a second, the thrusters blew a fuse. Rey’s B-Wing blasted off, her afterburners firing ahead of Finn’s mark, sending her spiralling out of control as the gimbal finally packed it in, and the regulator gave out again. A streak of flame blew from the side of the quad-engines and Rey was spiralling in a deathly freefall towards the Bunkerbuster but slightly to the left.

“Finn! I’ve lost control! This is Black Five! I’ve lost thruster control! Power regulator failure and feedback is negative, I’m losing my stabiliser! FINN!” She screamed.

Before he could even get to her the auxiliary power cells kicked in, bringing the regulator limping back to life just in time for Rey to regain control of what was left of the gimbal. If she couldn’t reset the stabiliser and feed it as much power as she could from the reserve, it would blow like the thruster control and she’d be a tumbling piece of slightly powered debris hurtling into space. She thanked the Force she’d drained the power from the Hyperdrive before the battle, but now she was fatally afraid of the battered B-Wing simply giving up all around her. She switched off the gyroscope completely to save what power she could and jammed the craft hard to starboard, breaking for the Bunkerbuster.

“Crypter, crypter, crypter! _Ninka_ , this is Black Five! I’m losing control and request urgent assistance!”

“Copy, Black Five. Priming tractor beams. We’ll bring you into the hangar.”

The alert suddenly drowned out all other sound into her ears – her tail had fired a missile. Rey reached desperately for the electronic countermeasures, but the dashboard was failing by the second. She cursed, a hard expletive between her teeth as she yanked the siphon key from the left side of the control console and jammed it into the right, trying to get the emergency cells to the weapon systems. “Come on! Come on! Blast you, come on!!” She yelled.

“I’m on it, Rey...”

“Poe?” She cried – his T-70 X-Wing was a bright and hopeful blur as she reared her head around in the cockpit. The missile was gone after a flash of red laser and small ball of flame right behind her thruster cradle. The fighter who’d fired it reeled, coming at her again from the portside, but Commander Dameron was an angel on her shoulder. Even on the radar, Rey could see his outclassing pilot skill first hand, watching that X-Wing flip in a way she couldn’t imagine seeing it perform to come at the TIE pilot like a flipped knife against a bouncy surface.

Dameron cut through Rey’s quarry with extreme precision of a veteran nearly twice his age, obliterating the foe right as the tight embrace of the tractor beam from the _Ninka_ gripped her craft and pulled her in.

“Finn, break off and follow me – direct all power to shields and get your proton torpedoes ready. Jessika, how’s that shield generator coming?” Rey could hear Poe organising over the comm channel as she became surrounded by the bright white light of the hangar threshold. The small bay of the Bunkerbuster was only wide enough to fit a couple of fighters, and the size of her in her B-Wing overtook the vast majority of the space. “Blue Leader, this is Black Leader, gimme a sitrep, Tallie.”

Rey felt a twist of rage hit her chest as the landing gear hit the deck and cockpit tilted with the gyroscope acting of its own accord. As soon as the emergency engineer crew assembled around her craft she knew what she needed. The yellow ladder ascended one of them to release her from the cockpit, but she refused to leave now – her squadron needed her.

“Lieutenant! Are you okay, ma’am?” The Padawan snatched off her flight helmet, thrashing with her new and short bob of dirty blonde hair. Rose had dyed it a few weeks ago and it still felt odd to see herself with such a vastly different colour of hair. That rage mutated in her chest and belly.

“I’m fine, get me back out there, now!” She demanded.

“Ma’am, you’re in no position to go back out there in this thing, you’ll burn up!” The engineer argued with her, the small set and bulky Rhodian not Rose or Paige Tico so Rey didn’t want to hear it. “We heard your transmissions, your crypter call!”

“Fix that blasted gimbal, _now_ , Petty Officer!” The blonde Jedi fledgling barked at her with the helmet in her hands. “I need to get out there!”

Another engineer from the deck came around the front of the cockpit, a slightly taller but not by much Sullustian with their tool belt stacked and a wrench in their hands. “Lieutenant, your gimbal is shot to hell, your thruster control’s completely burned out and even the landing gear is busted! Anymore flak in this crate and you’ll be space dust!”

Rey snarled, the tension in her fingers almost enough to completely crush her flight helmet as she sat in the chair of the cockpit like a stubborn child. She felt it in her gut, in her chest and in the back of her mind like a creeping sensation that pickled her brain – she had failed. That failure hit her like a plasma torpedo as she held it in her hands in place of her helmet. The engineers left her vicinity and got to work trying to salvage what there was to be saved of her B-Wing, immediately reaching the fuel duct with a valve and pipe to drain it of what was left in the tank. Tibanna was highly explosive, and while the Coaxium in the core of the bled Hyperdrive (which was probably utterly ruined given the blowout of the engines) was inert, the liquid and gaseous Tibanna fuelling the thrusters and the laser cannons was definitely still primed. Recycling it was their first priority, and then would be the critical systems. Given how she had flown the flying crate, Rey suspected the whole B-Wing would be scrapped and what systems were still operable would be salvaged for the rest of the fighter wing Admiral Ackbar was retrofitting into the new A/SF-01b series of his own tuning. He and the Sullustian veterans Ten and Nien Numb were overseeing a massive starfighter operation to bolster the Resistance’s fighter compliment. The First Order had a seemingly never-ending fleet of TIEs; the General’s forces needed to compensate. And Rey had just utterly ruined one of the few working fighters just by flying it poorly.

She lurched upward, reaching for the embarkation ladder, throwing her flight helmet into the deserted cockpit before sliding down and away from the B-Wing. Shame overtook her thoughts, for what little time there was before an odd shade of bright colour took her eye entering the small hangar bay.

Amilyn Holdo, flanked by Zay Versio.

“Some close flying, Lieutenant,” Holdo greeted, realising the same as Rey that this was the first time they had actually held a conversation one on one. The Padawan noted Zay moving passed her to address the B-Wing with the engineering crew. “You made it back in one piece, at least, ace.”

“I ruined a prototype variant of a starship assault fighter just by flying it – all because of the f... all because of the blasted gimbal and the damned trim,” Rey spat, cursing how it had felt in her hands by the end. The whole thing had been cursed since she’d left Crait in the thing. “I shouldn’t have been here, I was only making an errand run and fell into this op because Finn asked – never again.”

“You joined the operation as a favour to your friend; and not just because he asked you – because Leia asked you.”

“Yeah, well,” Rey nearly pouted, bundling up her dirty and ragged blonde hair into a bunch and snapping a tie around it, her fringe fraying and coming out to further mess up her face. “I guess I’m just not cut out for flying with Black Squadron, am I?”

There was a ringing tone, tinny and lo-fi as radio chatter came through the loudspeaker into the hangar compartment. There was the residue of an explosion in the background, backed up by the aftershock of a wave gently rocking the Bunkerbuster itself. Rey could sense what had happened; the massive loss of life and intervention of the Force rippled over her skin and down her spine, making her feel a twang of negativity on top of the seething rage and shame she directed at herself. It threw her off balance, but she breathed, trying to centre herself and remember Master Skywalker’s teachings and feel his aura from Ach-To. The Star Destroyer had been taken care of and was breaking apart amidst the small cluster of rogue asteroids the fighter pilots had incorporated into the plan. Poe’s stratagem had paid off and the operation was evidently a success.

“ _Ninka_ , this is Black Leader – target destroyed. Recommend we bug out and head back for home,” Poe spoke aloud over the widespread loudspeaker. It made Rey feel worse.

“Zay,” Holdo requested, folding her arms in the lavish lilac dress a similar colour to her hair. Rey had always been perplexed by how elegant and extravagant the Vice Admiral appeared even when on duty and in command. She always looked to be going to a diplomatic function rather than a combat one. The junior Versio rejoined her, tugging on her short and sleeveless puffer jacket. “Return to the bridge; give Orlov the command to return to Crait immediately. He can jump whenever he’s ready.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.”

“Come on, Rey; I’m sure Leia will be thankful to know you’re safe,” Holdo reassured her, but still, Rey felt like one of those rogue rocks outside the Bunkerbuster.

“What is our ETA?”

“Probably be a couple hours, but we should give our reports to the General before we arrive,” Holdo reminded her.

Rey thought otherwise, her mind drifting so far away from all of this in a stupor of shame. “May I request the use of a personal cabin? The Executive Officer’s? I’ll give my report to Master Organa before we arrive at Crait I just...”

“Need to blow off some steam?” Amilyn answered for her; despite how detached from the command structure she always appeared in her gowns and dresses beautiful enough to rival what Leia wore, she seemed more understanding and approachable than any of them. Rey reached out with the Force and read the Vice Admiral, gauging her person and feeling warmer already. She hummed in affirmative. “Request granted, Lieutenant. You can use my cabin – there’s a holoterminal inside.”

“Thank you, Vice Admiral.

* * *

Rey still remembered the clandestine frequency Finn had delivered to her during the first few weeks on Ach-To; recalibrating the communications channel on Holdo’s terminal. It reacted well for her, the display flashing to life and displaying the signature of the Resistance’s spy. The two angular centre lines and diamonds on either side – Fulcrum. Rey knew the history of the channel, on the initiative even. She knew it had started in the Clone Wars, shortly after Darth Sidious had destroyed the Jedi Order and was continuing to hunt down the last surviving Force-users in the galaxy. It was Leia’s father, Bail Organa and Ahsoka Tano who had established it after its use in during the war by Obi-Wan Kenobi. To think it could survive all this time, so many decades later and come to work for the Resistance. To even think the First Order and Snoke himself still hadn’t discovered it. Rey thanked the Force, remembering who Fulcrum even was; Captain Phasma.

“Phoenix,” the voice-modulated mask that was Fulcrum stated plainly.

“Lothal,” Rey responded equally as plainly, returning the coded challenge.

“Receipt,” Fulcrum tossed back, following the rules of the data to data exchange. Communications with Fulcrum on the dedicated channel had to be short and like bursts. Despite how much Rey was to lengthen the exchange and the conversation, she knew she couldn’t as long as Phasma was operating as Fulcrum for the Resistance. After all, it had been Rey who had turned the tall and dominating Stormtrooper captain into a spy after their time together on Takodana during the monsoon.

“Report away, Fulcrum. It’s me...”

“Acknowledged. Reports of the destruction of the Star Destroyer _Punisher_ have started to come in; counter-terrorism operations remain unaware of the location of the Resistance base. Flight computers of the _Punisher_ and her fighter compliment have been unable to corroborate the numbers and methods used to destroy the vessel and all hands. Fortunately, there were no survivors from the battle on this side. Acknowledged?”

Rey dismayed – no survivors. She hadn’t even been in the battle itself, and yet both Black and Blue Squadrons had killed all the enemy combatants. Part of her wanted to weep at the loss of life, despite everything. Her reaction to her B-Wing was almost circumstantial, now she just felt at a loss. “Acknowledged... continue to gather intelligence... stay safe, Fulcrum.”

“Fulcrum out.”

The insignia vanished, replaced by a more physical form on the hologram display – a droid coloured in the lighter and darker shades of blue from the projector and looking rather surprised to see Rey of all people. “Oh my! Mistress Rey! Thank the Maker, you’re unharmed! The General has not received your report of the hunt for the Star Destroyer _Punisher_...”

“Threepio...” Rey peeped, her voice a choked cry as she sunk down the side of the cabin wall onto her rear, her knees tucked in close under her arms as she huddled herself close for company. The cold metal durasteel of the bulkheads reminded her of how she felt, the Bunkerbuster tumbling through Hyperspace alone back to Crait, yet Rey was closed off from the squadron she had arrived with and her fighter in ruins. She couldn’t have possibly felt more like a failure. “Threepio, is Rose with you?” She asked dearly.

“Oh... well, I seem to recall her close by. W-Would you like me to retrieve her for you?” The polite protocol droid replied, his expression the same as always under her gold plating but the tone of his organic voice speaking Basic slightly more caring and concerned. Rey loved that about the droid, how old he was and much he had served his various owners, but still how much he cared about the people he seemed to regard as his friends.

“Please...” Rey called behind the onset of tears.

He vanished from the projector only to return moments later with the second hologram of the slightly shorter Rose Tico in her engineering jumpsuit and hair in spacebuns behind the tip of her spine, her hands gloved and the opening of her overalls parted confidently. It all made her look a lot older and more queer than she had looked when she’d first joined the Resistance. She peered down, almost dropping to her knees when she saw the mirrored hologram of Rey with her blonde hair covering her hands covering her face.

“Hey...” She spoke softly.

Her gloved hands were reaching out to no doubt caress the small projection of Rey that must have been coming through Artoo or another Resistance droid back at the base. They must have been near the hangar to have been so close to Rose like this, and she must have been pulling double duty again working on the rest of the fighter fleet with her sister, who had been made the Chief Engineer after leaving D’Qar.

“Rose...” Rey cried.

“What happened?”

The fledgling Jedi crashed her head against the bulkhead, knocking her blonde bang forward to further obscure her blotchy and teary face. It felt so much more like anger and pain than upset sadness clouding her emotions and drawing her closer to the Dark Side so casually. What had really happened was that she’d failed, and had nearly crashed and burned for it like some amateur during their first time in a combat-ready cockpit. She had thought she was better than that, and it had crushed her to have nearly died behind the flight controls of a simple fighter.

“I fucked it, is what happened, Rose – I couldn’t fly,” she hissed almost entirely from behind her teeth as she relived the mess of her part in the operation. “I knew that gimbal was fragged before we even gave chase to the destroyer; by the time that trap was set up in that asteroid clearing there was no way it was going to move, and I pushed it anyway. I pushed myself because I thought I could fly with my ship below a hundred percent. The blasted trim was off just before she came out of Hyperspace... I nearly died...”

“Rey...”

“I put Finn in danger too,” she confessed, that fact making her feel even worse. “My trim was off and my gimbal was shot to hell and I couldn’t make the attack run on the destroyer, and Finn stayed on my wing despite the fact that flew the Y-Wing. I caught a TIE on my tail and he came to save me... And I _still_ blew the whole fighter around me. If it wasn’t for the Bunkerbuster, for Holdo... I really would be dead.”

Rose dropped to her knees before the projector, crawling a little closer on the terminal’s hologram trying to reach out across space and grab her lover. Rey wanted to teleport instantly and fall into her partner’s arms before she really crashed and burned again. “Rey, just get home. Just come home to me, okay? You’re safe with the Vice Admiral, you’re not flying right now.”

“I’ve never flown like that before,” Rey peeped again, her fear beginning to override the anger and the shame. “I’ve never flown that badly before.”

“You said it was the gimbal. So it was the gimbal. Rey, we can fix this... Just come home to me... Come home to _me_ and we will work through this experience together, okay? I love you,” Rose begged of her.

Rey stifled her tears as much as she could before looking at her lover’s face in the cold blue of the hologram. “I know...”


	2. Pride

Rose was waiting like a lost Lothcat in the wider hangar bay complex as the Bunkerbuster designated _Ninka_ came in through the ceiling of the salt caverns. They’d all been lucky that the old Rebellion Era stronghold was both massively expansive and still operational, especially given the huge bulkheads that moved the earth of the mountaintops to hide the wide cavern complex of the base. As _Ninka_ landed safely, concealed under the ground and the cloaking device projected from within along with the shield generator, Rose’s heart lifted more than a lot.

The crew all disembarked at once, a small flood of people ranging from deck gang members to officers and even distinguished members of the Resistance Admiralty Board. Rose Tico could see the gentle and elegant lilac palette of Vice Admiral Holdo flanked by Zay Versio and surrounded by her other aides as she bypassed the returning crew members and pivoted toward the tunnels leading toward the command centre. Rey was nowhere the engineer could see, the rather small Rose looking between and around the meandering crew making for the break and ready rooms for debrief and other mess. They all seemed to ignore Rose as they passed, letting her move between them to try and find Rey.

Once the space before the ventral hangar was empty, Rose could see her girlfriend’s shape within the bright entrance way into the single fighter deck. Rey was hunkered over the aft of the A/SF-01b B-Wing, trying to dismount one of the thruster units from the mounting without a dock loader. From the look of how her arms were outstretched and struggling, she was attempting to move the whole unit with the Force.

“Rey! You need to use a dock loader to move it from the mounting!” Rose cried, calling for her as she broke into a sprint up the embarkation ramp.

The Padawan heaved, trying to keep her balance and prevent the whole engine mount from falling. Rose was right, of course, she needed the auto dock loader or else the moving crane still stowed near the portside of the hangar deck. But she was stubborn, more so than Rose had ever seen her; the junior mechanic reached her partner, pulling at her shoulders and forearms as Rey tried to persevere despite her lack of strength or fortitude with the Force. She simply wasn’t strong enough yet to begin to move parts or wholes of starfighters like she knew Master Skywalker could. The smaller engineer gave another tug on her body, trying to pull her away from the thruster mounting before it and Rey both gave way to let it fall. At this distance it was likely to crash directly into the fledgling Jedi and cause her severe bodily harm.

“It’s gonna fall!” Rose cried in her partner’s ear, still trying to pull her away with another heavy heave. One false move on Rey’s part and the mount would definitely hit her from the height she had it at. “Rey, just let it down on the chassis and move clear. What are you doing anyway?”

The Padawan flailed a little, trying to shake her partner. What had come over her on the journey back home? She had been alone in Holdo’s cabin trying to hold it together when the transmission had come through and now even Rose could sense the anger and negativity coming from her bones and bubbling to the surface. She was looking ready to snap, her hair fraying like she’d been pulling at it and so much more dirtier than it already was.

“I can get it off the mounting if you would let go!” Rey shrieked, pulling at the massive thruster core with the Force resisting her at her fingertips.

It was a lull at first, the natural energy field her once ally and now her resentful companion, trying to tell her she was wrong and this was not the sort of ethereal thinking and teaching her master was teaching her. This was the brute matter thinking that had caused her failures on Starkiller Base and Naboo previously – relishing in her anger as she struck down Kylo Ren while going the extra mile to mar his face and later murdering that Knight of Ren in Theed in cold blood came to the forefront of her mind. This was another failure akin to those lessons, only Rey wasn’t patient enough to think about it; all she could focus on was the feeling of failure that had hit her stomach like a sucker punch when the _Ninka_ ’s tractor beam had slammed her onto the deck. She heaved again, pulling it further out of the column around it, her body frustrated and already growing weary.

“It just needs a little more and I can set it down, Rose,” Rey fought, still trying to shake her lover.

“Rey, it’s going to fall on us both! Just set it down in the column and we can come back with a full salvage crew to take her apart!”

The Jedi turned to her girlfriend, her eyes shocked and looking more than a little unstable. “We can’t take it apart! I can fix it, Rose... I can fix it...”

“It’s okay, Rey... She’s beyond fixing...”

“But... Come on, it’s just the fragged up gimbal and the trim. I can fix those, I’m well beyond that level, I’m not a novice,” she tried to convince herself, looking between Rose and the more than a little damaged B-Wing with the quad-thruster compliment stripped of plating and the core hanging out like a dangling limb. The ship was in no position to be repaired, the crash landing on the deck and the cosmetic damage from her dogfighting were just the beginning of the issues facing the less than optimised craft. 

“Rey...” Rose began, her fingers gracing her cheek as she continued to struggle.

“Rey!” Finn and Poe both exclaimed from halfway up the landing ramp of the Bunkerbuster, fresh witnesses to the chaotic scene before them. They could see how much she was struggling with the thruster core and also broke into chivalrous sprints to get to her and Rose before the whole thing came loose from the mounting and fell onto them. “Hold on!” Finn called out.

“Don’t let it go, Rey! The crane!”

“We’ve got you, Rey...” Finn continued, bursting toward her and the mounting as Poe deviated to activate the loading crane to catch the whole thing as she looked like her strength was sapped. There were mere seconds.

The former Stormtrooper got to Rey and Rose as Poe landed at the crane controls, powering the whole thing up but Rey had to relent from underneath her own ambition. She gasped as the weight of the thruster core demanded she let go for the last time and the Force failed her. Poe screamed a tumultuous ‘watch out’ as he looked to his own partner and Rey’s hands dropping. He took one step as the whole core came crashing down, but not onto the floor or onto his friends and lover, instead the whole mounting collapsed and the thruster unit fell onto a bedding of soft invisible material and gently began to float again back into place, protected by the loading column and freshly into place. There was no mistaking the work of the Force again, Poe had seen it operated too many times at this point to mistake the miraculous things it did – but it wasn’t Rey who was doing it.

Commander Dameron, and then the rest of the small party, looked down the entry ramp to see the Force-user saving them from a grave accident at the hand of Rey’s foolery. General Organa.

She set the thruster core back into place with one stretched out palm to control it and barely any sign of strain on her concentration. Leia was even still making her way up the length of gangplank, her elegant and stylish cane aiding her up the ramp as Holdo, Connix and Versio flanked her with the same kind of expression as the General. To say she was unimpressed was a drastically foolish understatement. Poe hadn’t seen her angrier apart from one time he broke protocol on a scouting run to divert to the Colossus. Leia looked directly at Rey as Finn parted from her.

“General,” Rose tried to begin, but as the thruster unit nestled itself safely back into place, Leia raised her fingers up to silence the junior chief, still diverting her attention to Rey in particular.

“I’m waiting for an explanation, Padawan,” she demanded deftly.

“I was attempting to fix the Ackbar variant B-Wing, Master Organa,” Rey peeped. Finn made an incredulous look to mirror his boyfriend’s; evidently they hadn’t considered Leia’s prowess with the Force on a level to rival if not completely surpass her brother’s. The only thing that tempered Poe’s reaction was how much he knew of his General’s reputation and family legacy – indeed, everyone in the New Republic knew of Luke and Leia’s true parentage and family name. “I’m not convinced I sustained enough damage in the craft to warrant it’s classification as salvage, Master.”

Already, Rey was the only person either of the boys or Rose or even Connix (Leia’s own foster child) who had referred to the General as ‘Master’. She was the General, a title befitting her service to both the Resistance at present and the Rebellion before that.

Leia gave the chopped up and damaged B-Wing a once over as she reached the top of the entrance ramp with Holdo and the younger women behind her. She completely bypassed the Padawan to inspect what she had done to fighter before kicking at the landing gear with her cane. “Even I can tell this thing is beyond saving Rey, and I’m nowhere near the level of the engineers who told you she was salvageable before you got here. The gimbal was shot to hell before you engaged the _Punisher_ and Poe told you on more than one occasion that the trim was sloppy – since you’re a better pilot than everyone but him, I chalk that issue up to the ship and not you. You’d know better.”

“Yes, Master Organa.”

“You just put yourself and three other people in danger because you wouldn’t listen to others, not even Poe... Why?” Leia asked her, berating her in front of everyone.

“I didn’t want to let anyone down, Master.”

“No,” Leia shot, stepping closer to her and gesturing for Finn and Rose to both give them more space.

She singled out the Padawan, knowing that her brother would give a much worse reaction to something like this. Leia was a leader, an operative, a spy, even a soldier whereas Luke was always the pilot and the Jedi. But there was so much more to General Leia Organa behind the weapons of her eyes and the deft hands she used for everything than nearly anyone knew. The only three people who knew she was more than what most members of the Resistance saw her as were her late husband, her self-exiled brother and the Vice Admiral with her arms folded behind all of them, watching her oldest friend demonstrate why she was the General.

Leia crossed even closer to Rey, lifting her chin to force the fledgling Jedi to eye her. “You didn’t think about letting people down, you thought about yourself, Rey. I know I don’t have to tell you that a Jedi forsakes their pride in order to become one, do I?”

Rey didn’t try to offer an answer. An unspoken but palpable air took over the Force – she could sense it, sense it with Leia. It was a feeling of dread the younger Padawan had so easily forgotten even after the mission to Naboo and the trial she faced on Starkiller Base. The feeling swarmed her, overtaking the sleeping parts of her mind like the vision she received when touching Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber in the lower level of Maz Kanata’s castle. It was fear, it was anger, and it was such incredible hatred the likes of which Rey still couldn’t imagine feeling. And in the middle of the miasma of mind-invading hatred and anger for all things, Rey could sense what Leia had wanted her to feel. She hadn’t noticed when the General’s hand had taken hers, but she felt it now, looking directly into Leia’s eyes and seeing what she meant.

Pride was something someone had felt long ago, a different life. Rey searched deep within herself to find it, knowing it was something dark. But Leia had planted the seed in her mind and she wanted to seek it out even if it meant facing the darkness again like she did on Starkiller and on Takodana. There he was, deep in the dark feelings, prideful until the end.

Kylo Ren. Rey had forgotten – he was once Leia’s son, Ben Solo...

“Leia...” Rey meekly peeped, her emotions in knots and her body wanting to curl up in some corner somewhere to keep itself safe. A foul and tepid sense of nausea worked its way into her stomach, seeing a sinking feeling up her spine. “I’m... I’m sorry Master Organa, I don’t know what I was thinking...”

The General continued to glare, taking her gentle but also firm hand back. “Terrible futures come to those we love when we act out of pride, Rey. Luke’s a Jedi... _Han_ was his father.” No one dared to say anything after that, letting the General make her way down the gangplank again, Connix coming to her aid at her arm. It was one of the first times Rey had outwardly seen the Lieutenant Commander act affectionate, lending credence to the relationship she shared with Leia. She really did look and act like a daughter to the General.

“Don’t you all have somewhere to be?” Leia called back, referencing mostly Commander Dameron. “Poe, I want your report of the _Punisher_ , personally.”

“Yes, General...”

Finn followed, even if he hadn’t yet attained a rank high enough to join the rest of the War Council in the command centre. He just looked as if he wanted to be with his boyfriend after the battle. Rey felt marked, an awful stirring in the pit of her stomach after sensing and feeling the Force echo of Kylo Ren through Leia. It reminded her of her own mortality, and the consequences of her actions if she would ever take the wrong path – Rose came to her side again, wrapping her up in a warm and wonderful embrace.

“It’s going to be okay, Rey.”

“I love you, Rose...”

“Come on, let’s get you out of these flight slacks; take a shower with me...”

* * *

Ren could sense it like a fire at close proximity, a beacon consuming his entire mental faculty as it came to him like a profound flame. Across the galaxy he could sense it, perfect clarity coming with it that told it all to him. She was there, had been there during the battle with the _Punisher_ , and she had failed drastically.

Kylo Ren closed the safety case containing his most precious artefact of the old war, sealing his grandfather’s memento inside and away from his prying eyes. With the bulkhead casing closed and the shielding activating, Kylo felt the echoes in his mind calm and quiet, the whispers of the past lulling into a gentle presence behind his concern and current focus. His fascination with the girl superseded everything else, even the reminders of legacy swirling around in his mind. The Dark Side of the Force was with him, close to him as long as he maintained his connection with his grandfather. Soon he knew he would need more, something else to strengthen the bond with his long dead forebear; the charred remains of the burnt helmet were simply not enough despite the years of strong-willed fortitude he had felt from the artefact. No, he would soon need more.

The alert came in directly near him, the console connecting him with the bridge of the _Finalizer_. He had expressed his wishes to Phasma before he took to his private sanctum for meditation; he was not to be disturbed by anyone. Kylo’s hand turned into a fist and continued to tighten with tension.

“General Hux...” Kylo sighed with contempt the moment he saw the face of his partner; their altercation turned sexual exchange was still a supposed secret to everyone aboard the Star Destroyer (not including Phasma herself, who had been at the door, privy to the entire thing). “I was not to be disturbed... General.”

Hux’s expression didn’t change; behind his bastion-like eyes the young and manipulative General held callous guile and cool ambition. Given their new relationship, Ren’s displeasure bothered him not anymore. “Supreme Leader Snoke demands you to make contact with him, Ren.”

The tense bravado Kylo exuded nearly instantly disappeared, feeling the reminder of his loyalty to his master chaining him to the structure of the First Order that the man had helped create. “I will. Thank you, General Hux,” Ren rather kindly nodded, seeing Hux’s person vanish from the small screen fed from the bridge. The dark acolyte stood from his meditation chair, turning to the flank of his sanctum and moving into the wider transmission chamber. It had been modelled directly similar to that of his grandfather’s from the archived plans of the Super Star Destroyer _Executor_ salvaged from the remains of the Empire.

Ren stepped onto the projector plate and took to one knee before it activated under him. He bowed his masked head before the huge hologram of Supreme Leader Snoke took form beyond him, the man’s decrepit face cloaked and hooded in a black garb that obscured his features.

“What is your bidding... My Master?”

“There has been a new disturbance in the Force,” Snoke revealed, his expression unchanging and still slowed and horrifying from the deformed abnormalities in his appearance. “Have you felt it?”

“The girl...”

“Yes... The young Jedi who handed you your defeat on the Starkiller Base.” The reminder of the catastrophe made Kylo’s face burn under his helmet, his scar still not healed. “She was present at the destruction of our ship in the Unknown Regions – she grows stronger...” Kylo dared to look up and face Snoke directly, his own stature dwarfed by the giant man portrayed to look even larger by the hologram to reaffirm his imposing demeanour. He appeared to try and speak but Snoke stopped any notion of that before Ren could do so. “I sense... _Yes_ ; you have been searching for her since your defeat...”

Ren wanted to snap. “And I believe I am close to finding her – my knights have been dispatched to apprehend her and bring her to the First Order... I will retrieve her, Master, and deliver her to you on...”

“Be quiet, Ren,” Snoke forced him, something coming over the dark acolyte and forcing him to cease talking. “Your orders were to discover the location of General Organa’s Resistance, and thus far you have failed... Twice you have done this Ren. You have even betrayed the Knights of Ren... perhaps you are unfit to remain as their leader.”

Kylo broke his silence, whatever spell Snoke snaked around his body or his mouth lifting through his sheer determination. The hatred he felt for his master, his captor, his own betrayer was growing, his contempt for the man wearing thinner all the time. He feigned loyalty, falsified his ambition to follow as an afterthought of Snoke’s glory, of Snoke’s leadership of the First Order. Still the whispers of his grandfather’s mask swallowed his waking thoughts along with the fantasy of finding and taking Rey. Ever since their battle, the offer he had made her on Starkiller, nothing else had made him happier than the thought of unlocking his own ambition and moving against her and Snoke both. Something in the back of his mind compelled him to do so, to show truly how strong he was and to take what was really his by birthright. As grandson of Darth Vader, the whole First Order was his by right – it was Vader who had killed The Emperor, not Luke Skywalker or anyone else.

Vader was his forebear, and Vader was his destiny, not Snoke.

“She is feeling the Dark Side, Master,” Kylo divulged, pouring his insight and his feelings into it, knowing it was what he had sensed as he poured over meditations with his grandfather’s heirloom. He could feel the imprint on the lightsaber of Anakin Skywalker still in her possession, and he could sense the beacon that was her emotions turning over to the darkness from across the galaxy, even if he could not pinpoint where yet. “She fears her own failure...”

“You are sure?” Snoke questioned, for once his expression changing.

“I am, my Master... Even though I cannot yet sense her location, her feelings are clear in my mind. She was present at the battle with the _Punisher_ but failed to engage... Her pride has wounded her connection to the Force.”

“You... sense the girl,” Snoke repeated, his eyes swirling and his expression vague. “Strange that I do not, my apprentice... I wonder if your feelings on this matter are clear, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo’s masked visage snapped up to eye his controller again, his pained and angered look obfuscated by the visor and helm of black durasteel in the style of a millennia-old Sith Lord. The mask could not betray him, and he attempted not to betray himself, knowing Snoke’s involvement with his own thoughts and the wiretap his master had in his own head. “They are _clear_ , my Master...”

Snoke took time, contemplating things Kylo Ren could not sense, and his machinations hidden so deep behind the layers of his deformed face and kept well beyond the talents of the fledgling Sith. “You will come to me Kylo Ren... We will discuss this _girl_.”

“Yes, my Master,” Kylo bowed quickly before the transmission of the Supreme Leader could dissipate, knowing something more was growing. He would learn more before Snoke’s presence. Another transmission overtook the place Snoke’s occupied, the small visage of General Hux soon joined by that of Captain Phasma and Kaplan, the _Finalizer_ ’s bridge commander. “General Hux, deploy the _Finalizer_ and change course.”

“Very well, Ren. Our destination?”

“To Exegol, General.”


	3. Satisfaction

The shower was relatively small, even for Rey’s on/off cabin. She was given a small residence in the underground complex of the Crait base (so much of it still under construction as more fighters and members flocked to the Resistance almost daily throughout the galaxy) despite not being a committed operative of the organisation or a permanent resident within the old salt mines. It was nothing huge like that of the Admiralty Board or Command Staff, but it was liveable, a sheer upgrade from her hermit dwellings in the dunes of the Jakku desert. Both she and Rose could manage to squeeze into the confines of the small shower, which they did.

Their dynamic was a polar opposite to how it had been on Naboo, this time Rey was underneath, the one in need of care while Rose stepped into a matriarchal and loving role. She drew the shower for the vulnerable Padawan, turning off the majority of the electronic baffle both around the room and inside Rey’s own mind to soothe her and bring her back into the light. It was what the scavenger needed, just to switch off and be reminded of the real world she lived in, away from the mess of combat and the exposure of the Force.

Rey undressed down to her binding wrap around her chest, keeping is across her breasts and maintaining the flatness of her boyish chest. It was Rose who saw to her hair, pulling out the tie and running her fingers through what little of it she could to tell how messed it was. The blonde suited the Jedi a lot more when she was naked like this, the light yellow against the slightly tanned sun-kiss of her otherwise pasty skin clashing in a perfect dual-tone. She reminded Rose a little of a star, the centre of a system much like Crait. Considering what little time Rey had actually spent on the base premises, she seemed to take to the militant and organised way of life that General Organa had cultivated from the Resistance overall. It was a lot different to how the Rebellion had operated back in the day, still an organisation focused on the pursuit of peace in the galaxy, but the Resistance was certainly a new kind of blood, fresh eyes on the chase of their goals.

They were more than an army or even a family – the Resistance was rapidly and already becoming a society, a faction all on its own.

“Shower with me...” Rey begged, covering her lower half with vulnerable hands, bruises and scuff marks around her fingertips and knuckles from where she’d caught and nicked them from working on the B-Wing as well as her other craft. She looked meek, her request fuelled with everything she had left in her today (which wasn’t much by now). “Please, Rose,” she asked again.

Rose nodded beyond necessary. “Yeah... yeah, we can do that.”

She moved to return to the bathroom area, to either check or further temper the shower or move the screen so that they could both perfectly fit. Rey stopped her short, catching her in the wide if weak area of her forearm and latching onto her like a net. “I’m sorry...”

“Hey, it’s okay, I promise,” Rose returned, moving to mirror Rey if not a head shorter than the fledgling apprentice. What Leia had said to her, what she must have done to her when she touched Rey’s hand, it seemed to have distilled deep down and cause this negative effect on the Jedi. “No one got hurt,” the mechanic tried to remind her.

The Padawan’s eyes turned glassy for a moment, resentful of herself and the scene on the _Ninka_ ’s hangar deck. She hadn’t listened to anyone; not even Finn or Poe were able to stop her from taking that thruster core from the mounting without a dock loader or the moving crane. She’d almost caused all four of them serious injuries and if Leia hadn’t been there to stop it from falling, the worst might have happened. Regardless of how bad Rey now felt, she recognised how correct the General had been – pride had gotten the better of the wannabe apprentice, and she was more than exposed. Still, she could sense the reminder of Kylo Ren deep in the back of her mind.

“I didn’t listen to you, Rose... I didn’t listen to Finn or Poe and I put you all in danger on that hangar deck,” she peeped, pressing her forehead down to Rose’s and feeling her arms wrap around her naked form. “I’m sorry.”

Rose leaned up, claiming her lips so there would be no more second guessing, Rose Tico wasn’t that kind of person in the Resistance. In many ways she was a rock, devout in what she believed in and how she affirmed those beliefs in everything she did. She knew she loved Rey, or at least loved being with her and had done since their time together on Naboo. The mechanic wasn’t about to rest on laurels when it came to someone she loved. That was not how she believed this war would be won.

She made sure Rey was aware of her presence, of her lips as they took hers again, claiming the Jedi’s mouth and filling her with lustful affirmations and gentle reminders of what they had and shared. Rey tasted a little sour, not like she had done before, and Rose knew the effect she would have on her lover’s senses were not something to rave about. But she stood steadfast, standing on the tips of her toes to reach Rey’s height, almost climbing her like a tree, every movement of her lips subtle and slow, softer than Rose was even by herself.

“I’m right here with you...” Tico whispered, her hands moving back to her own frame and pulling at the straps and zipper of her jumpsuit, tugging off the torso section of it from her top half. She stepped out of it a second later, Rey’s hands till tenderly placed around the small of her back and waistline.

She was in her underwear moments after that, leaving Rey for a second to make sure the hatchway door was bolted shut and locked so they couldn’t be disturbed, then she returned to the Padawan, kissing her again and cupping her cheeks. Rey’s palms latched onto Rose’s fingers as soon as they could while the smaller woman left her another soft peck and moved to guide her away.

They’d shower together, Rose doing the washing and Rey trying to work through the notions of negative emotion still swirling around in her head. The junior engineer didn’t have to be a Jedi to read her partner, seeing the effects the post-mission aftershocks were having on her.

Rey stepped into the shower first, her chest still bound by the cloth wraps she used to flatten her bosom and become more athletically shaped. Rose took to her flank, holding her hips steady as the Jedi held the wall of the cubicle, feeling the jet stream of hot water take to her scalp and then down her neck and back. It was soothing, like Rose’s presence behind her through the Force. Rey could feel it come back to her, surrounding her and connecting her to the engineer at her back. It didn’t resist her this time, it didn’t seem to want to fight her or tell her she was wrong to use it so flippantly. Feeling the Force around her this time was like how it was when she felt it on Ach-To with Master Skywalker – Rey could feel the shape and pulse and time of living and dead things. She felt the deep and subtle connection to everyone in the stronghold grounds, from the frontline workers in the main fighter hangar bay behind the wall of mountain to the construction workers deep inside the base expanding the tunnels. She could feel Rose the clearest, but also Finn and Poe elsewhere she couldn’t see. The Force even connected her to the pack of Vulptexes that had permanently taken residence inside the base, the chiming melody of their crystalline hides clashing and making beautiful music coming back to the deep recesses of her ears as if they were in the room with her. 

Rose was still at her flank, kissing the tensing and relaxing muscles of her back and shoulder blades, taking a soaked rag to wash her with what little soap they had. Both women were used to this and worse, living with nothing. Rey barely had the resources to shower even like this on Jakku, and Rose the same on Hays Minor with her sister. The soothing presence of her gentle but full lips on Rey’s skin was intoxicating before long.

The Jedi breathed harshly, one of her legs stepping back and looping around her lover’s as Rose’s hands came to her front, tenderly at her naked tummy.

Rey gasped again, her frame tense as she held herself against the soaking wall, steam simmering around them both. She was well soaked by now from the shower, Rose still tending to her back and licking up at all the dirt and grime sensually with the rag. Between washes her lips made a profound reminder to the Jedi that she was there, her hands coming back around to her midriff, her lips curling with a gentle but intentional smile. Rey could sense her thoughts and they mirrored her own before long, the negative cloud of miasmic exposure softening and drowned out in Rose’s presence. On Naboo, Rey had been in command, she had been the one to initiate things and take control, but she could sense how much the mechanic wanted to take her fingers lower, especially while the apprentice was standing like this, her arms braced and her rear stuck out against Rose.

“Rose...” Rey whispered, her voice a little harsh and the blonde rags of wet hair falling in front of her face as the shower’s stream caught her crown again and soaked her queer bob.

“I can wash here if you’d want, Rey.”

“Touch me, Rose... I want you... to touch me... On Naboo,” the Jedi nearly demanded. Her eyes were shut a little, her face still obscured by her hair as the shower caught all the way down her back and onto Rose’s front. She wanted much, much more of course – there weren’t things Rey didn’t want from her usually timid and lovelier partner at this point, but couldn’t bring herself to ask for them. She still felt vulnerable, as if she had been marred in some way, lost some deep part of herself. Her vision flashed to the bruised and scraped marks all over her murky hands for a moment and Rey thought to herself if anyone else was like this, like her.

The tender fingers of Rose Tico distracted her, one palm retreating back to cup the smooth and ample curvature of Rey’s athletic flank while the fingers of the other sank lower to between her soaking thighs. Rose’s lips turned into teeth against her naked back when she found the wet brush and blossoming folds of the Jedi’s desire, and began to make love to her shape. Rey’s body convulsed with a hot and marked brand of ecstasy as soon as she felt Rose’s touch glide over her sex, her pearl trembling for attention as her legs weakened. Her hands against the wall turned to claws while her nails raked against it and she bit her bottom lip with hot lust. Feeling Rose penetrate her so soon was a shock to her system, as was the presence of teeth digging into her shoulder muscle, but Rey lavished the sensations rattling her relaxed body. She hadn’t felt it this good in a long while, and not this unfettered. Rose had unleashed her own dark side the moment Rey had asked and now they were beyond the point of returning. The Jedi tried to step back, her hips bucking into the motions of Rose’s fingers entering her sex and stirring up her wetness along with naked need, but the mechanic was more steadfast than she anticipated. Rose was a bulwark, enjoying this as much as Rey did instantly.

“Oh, _Rose_...” Rey managed to moan, trying to flick her hair back. Her lover reacted with another dominant display, owning her flank with a greedy strike.

That same hand found the back and inside glance of Rey’s struggling thighs, widening her stance to allow her fingers to move and the Jedi’s darling sex to breathe. Finding what wetness was coming from Rey’s lower lips among the cascade of water soaking them both was a challenge but Rose could sense it already all over her experienced fingers doing their best to make the apprentice moan her name again. Her teeth glided over Rey’s back again, gnawing on her shoulder with intrigued and spurred hunger while the Jedi continued to pant for bated breath and moan gently under her. The more Rey struggled, the more Rose knew she was working well, her finger penetrating the Padawan again and curling to find the sweet and central spot she knew would turn the otherwise able and defiant woman into a puddle of messy feelings and begging gratification. It didn’t take the junior engineer all that long to find it, her free hand reaching for Rey’s tummy again.

“Ah!” Rey cried suddenly. “Right there...”

“Right there?” Rose echoed, her lips kissing the shoulder blade again.

Rey’s hand left the wall, darting for hr sex where Rose’s coveted and covered her body, reaffirming the mechanic’s position, style and technique. The Jedi’s body was as stiff as a starfighter wing under Rose’s otherwise gentle stance at her flank, holding her rear again with ginger fingers.

“ _There_ ,” the Jedi demanded.

Her hand didn’t leave either; something snapped back in Rey’s soul as Rose found her spot, her fingers nuzzling her there while her thumb dared to toy with her pearl coming from under its hood. Both could tell Rey couldn’t last long as she widened her legs again, her core bucking a little wildly against Rose’s fingers penetrating her need, slick and hot release slathered both their hands as the shower washed them both. Rose’s own dominance got the better of her as she gave in and struck Rey’s rear again, wanting to own the supple flesh of her flank, wanting to make it red. Another strike earned her a wincing moan from the otherwise powerful Force-user, the continuous treatment turning her cheek a beautiful cherry red against the shower’s stream. Rey didn’t care, even liking it as she used Rose’s hand and fingers between her lower folds like a toy, actively grinding against her lover’s digits and begging for relief.

“You’re close,” Rose could anticipate as Rey’s breathing grew even more ragged under her. This close she could sense every rise and fall of her bound chest through her back, still gnawing at her flesh.

_“Y-Yes..._ ” Rey gasped.

“Come for me.”

“ _Yes_ ” the Jedi replied, bucking harder against her lover’s buried fingers and flicking thumb. Rose was no longer ginger about stroking the protruding bead of Rey’s most intense need; her clitoris was practically begging for it the wetter Rose could sense her becoming. Together they conspired to override the firm Jedi and reduce her to a moaning mess with soaked blonde hair, the roots already turning darker. Rose spanked her again, and Rey failed to hold up against the test against her body. She felt her legs turning to jelly as she near collapsed against the wall and showerhead, Rose falling with her to catch her as she came, her need relenting as orgasm took her.

“Rose!” She exclaimed into climax, her centre tensing around the mechanic’s fingers enough to make her hurt, but Rose smiled the whole while. She kissed Rey’s back again as the aftershocks rolled inward, and set her down over herself, gently resting against the back wall of the shower.

They clapped eyes on each other, Rose brushing the wet mess of dirty blonde hair from Rey’s eyes, and melted into a kiss the moment she saw them. Everything else bled from Rey’s mind and she focused on Rose, only Rose.


End file.
